


No Matter What

by Lafaiette



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Hatred, Sexual Content, pretty!Wade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 19:16:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafaiette/pseuds/Lafaiette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You were beautiful before too.” Peter replies softly and Wade lets out a strange laugh, loud but mirthless, that probably means “you are sweet, but I can’t believe that, I’m sorry”.</p>
<p>Request from Tumblr. Anonymous wanted something similar to "<a href="974856">Beauty Is In The Eyes Of The Beholder</a>", but with more angst and details.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Matter What

Peter raises his eyes from the book on his lap to settle them on Wade, just entered from the window with a loud noise and lots of muttered curses.

“Please don’t break anything.” Peter casually says returning to his book and its difficult contents.

“I almost broke my _leg_ …” Wade whines kicking the shoes resting under the windows that made him stumble.

Peter frowns: he could swear he heard something different in Wade’s voice, but he guesses it should be normal. Unfortunately his cancer painfully changes many things in his body on a daily basis, so it wouldn’t be surprising if Wade’s vocal chords suffer from it too.

“If you kept your things in order and not put them randomly around the house, this wouldn’t happen.” the young man retorts, flipping a page with a fond smile. “How did the mission go?”

When Wade doesn’t answer, he looks at him again, a bit worried: “Wade?”

The man approaches him and Peter can see the outline of a grin under the black and red mask.

“What did you find this time?” Peter smiles raising an eyebrow. Last time Wade brought him some rocks “totally coming from space!”, but they were just random stones with beautiful colors on them. Peter didn’t have the heart to throw them away, though, so they are still displayed on the bookshelf in the living room.

“Is it a book? Please, tell me it’s not the _Kamasutra_.”

“It’s better than that.” Wade replies and Peter can’t help but think that, _yes_ , his voice is definitely different. _A_ _lot_ different. He frowns, worried, because he never knew cancer actually could do this to Wade, it never happened before.

“Wade, are you okay?” he asks getting up from the bed and forgetting the book, a hand raised to touch him. “Is it bad today?”

They have a special ‘language’ they use to address cancer and the pain it gives Wade: Peter asks “how is it today?” and Wade answers with “it’s doing the samba” if it’s bad or “everything is calm” if the pain is tolerable. Sometimes Peter notices immediately when something is off - like now - and his question changes: “Is it bad today?”. He has become pretty good at guessing Wade’s condition studying his face, voice and movements, so the answer is usually positive and he knows what to do to soothe the pain.

This time isn’t different either: he gently takes Wade’s hand, holding and caressing its back, and asks again: “Is it bad today? I’m going to get the cream and…”

“We won’t need that anymore, Peter!” Wade exclaims shaking his shoulders with a triumphant laughter. “Come on, take off my mask! Do it!”

Peter blinks multiple times, extremely confused, then does as he is told: he grasps the edge of Wade’s mask and lifts it up with a swift gesture.

And then he screams, slapping the beautiful, handsome, _perfect_ face.

“ _Ouch!_ Baby boy, why did you do that?! Oh God, wait…!” Wade rushes over the bathroom to look at the mirror and comes back showing a pout.

“Damn, Petey, you scared me! I thought I changed back again and _for worse!_ ”

“I-I’m sorry, it was so sudden, I didn’t mean to…!” Peter shakes his head, eyes so widened he’s sure they are gonna fall out. “W-Wade, what happened? You… you _are_ changed!”

“I know!” the scarred man says- no, he’s not scarred anymore, his face has no tumors, painful bumps or wounds, just smooth pale skin and a bristly beard. Peter stares at the hair, blond and longish, disheveled and shiny. He stammers something unintelligible, pointing at that face, and his brain can’t come up with anything to say, no explanation or idea.

“It’s awesome, isn’t it? I can’t even feel that fucking pain anymore!” Wade smiles excitedly and no scar moves during the process. “It’s simple, Petey, really! This scientist I was hired to capture begged me to let him go and in return he gave me a special serum that kicked in the balls my cancer and healing factor. Now, I already have had a bad, _bad_ experience with a serum, but I think this time is good, this time it will work and _adios_ cancerous infected skin! Welcome stylish hair and sexy lips!”

“W-Wade, this… this is great, but…” Peter shakes his head again and sits on the bed; he needs to do that, because his brain is currently working too fast and the consequences of all of this are foggy, unknown, but he has the bad feeling they are not gonna be good.

When Wade sits next to him, Peter can’t help but tense a little, because he can see Wade’s facial structure, he recognizes his smile and eyes, but at the same time he looks like another person, a stranger dressed in a Deadpool costume.

“Hey, don’t be scared!” Wade laughs wrapping his arm around Peter’s lithe body; the young man smells gunpowder and sweat, but not that coppery scent that was so _Wade_ , caused by his continuously ravaged flesh.

Peter already misses it and his face must be telling something, because Wade frowns worriedly and shakes him gently.

“Peter, what’s wrong? I… I thought you would have been happy…”

“I… I am!” Peter reassures him and it’s true, he really is, but he will need a lot of time to get used to this, to the handsome and unscarred Wade. He gingerly touches his shaggy chin, caressing the beard; it’s rough, but it’s not the same roughness of scars.

“I’m just… surprised. A lot.” Peter now cups the cheek devoid of any wound and asks softly, fear already growing in his heart: “Wade, are you… are you sure about this?”

“Of course I am! Hell, Peter, I… I dreamed about this! You will have a normal boyfriend now!”

Wade gets up and opens his arms wide, standing in the light coming from the window to make his point clearer.

“Look at me! I’m _gorgeous!_ People won’t look at us with disgust, they won’t pity you, they won’t stare at us at restaurants and cinemas! Peter, we are… we are _free_ from that disgusting piece of shit that I dared to call ‘face’!” The blond man is smiling triumphantly again now, laughter bubbling inside him and erupting with a rumbling sound. This is different too, just like his voice, and Peter feels like crying because he knows this is bad.

“I loved your face. And I don’t care about what people say, Wade.” he murmurs looking at the other man and trying not to let the tears fall. Wade sits next to him again and gently holds his head, stroking a cheek with a scarless thumb.

“But I hated it, Peter. I hated what I saw in the mirror every day, I hated that pain always humming in the background.” he says with sadness and rage directed at himself. “And you deserved better than that.”

“Wade, what if this won’t last?” the young man suddenly asks with panic. He feels like shit for saying this, but it’s _important_ and it could really happen, so they need to be ready. “What if that scientist lied to you or he was wrong and this serum won’t work just like the other one?”

A shadow passes over Wade’s face, but he conceals it with another bright smile.

“You always worry so much, baby boy. You are worse than a mother.” he jokes kissing his lips and Peter returns the kiss, but it’s a bit weird and when he opens his eyes he still has to realize completely that he has kissed Wade and not another man.

“Now!” his boyfriend cheerfully exclaims getting up again, his hands on his hips. “I fucking suck at shaving - I tried once and it will never happen again, I almost lynched myself. So…” he looks shy all of a sudden and it’s amazing how his blush can be perfectly seen without the scabs and lumps covering it. “Can you help me, baby boy?”

Peter sighs through his nose, worry still tormenting him. But Wade looks so _happy_ and he isn’t suffering anymore… and what if he’s right, what if the effect of that serum will really last? What if this is permanent?

_‘You just need to get used to it. It’s okay, nothing changed, he’s the same Wade you love._ ’

So Peter smiles, nodding, and follows a giggling and excited blond Wade to the bathroom.

He never shaved anyone who wasn’t him before - and since they are together it has always been Wade the one shaving him, so he’s a bit nervous.

The older man is speaking non-stop, sitting on a chair they put in front of the mirror, caressing his beard and asking Peter if he should rather leave it.

“It needs a cut, it’s messy.” Peter laughs keeping still his head and starting to shave, albeit a little hesitantly and slowly. “You’ve been away for almost a week, of course it’s so shaggy and untidy.”

“I’ll have to learn how to shave, I suppose.” Wade mumbles as he stares at his reflected image on the mirror, eyes filled with awe. Peter doesn’t answer, trying to suppress that ugly feeling in his heart that hasn’t left him since Wade showed him his reborn face.

“It tickles.” Wade laughs after a while as Peter delicately removes the hairs from his upper lip.

“Don’t move, Wade, I don’t want to cut you!”

“Right, it hurts like a bitch. I tend to forget I can be hurt when I’m like this. Guess I’ll have to find another work. I’m sure they will accept me in that bar downtown now, Petey!”

“Wade!”

“No talking, right, sorry!”

Shaving Wade is something completely surreal, something Peter never thought would happen. He does it carefully and he is still surprised by the smooth, unscarred skin. Once the beard is gone, Wade’s features are much more visible and the man looks at the mirror with a satisfied smile. He then turns to Peter, softening his expression and squeezing the hand that isn’t holding the razor.

“Thank you, Petey. It feels better now.”

“You… you look good.” Peter says returning the smile and caressing the cheek. For a moment his brain has trouble registering the absence of scars, but then he sees Wade’s joyous eyes and the love that always shines bright into them when the man looks at him.

“Come on.” Peter says tucking one golden strand of hair behind Wade’s ear. “Let’s do something with this too.”

“Hey, I know how to brush it!” Wade protests childishly, but he’s clearly happy and pretends to allow Peter this great honor mumbling: “… But a lot of time has passed since I’ve done it, so you can do it for me this time.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Peter snorts combing delicately the soft, blond hair with his own brush.

Wade closes his eyes, relaxes and hums happily, enjoying Peter’s gentle touch.  

“I missed my hair.” he says in a melancholic, low voice and Peter gulps down a painful lump in his throat, bending over to kiss the blonde locks, playing with them and combing them at the same time. His fingers brushes over the small hairs on Wade’s neck and the man gasps, eyes still closed.

“Peter.” he then says with hoarse voice. This sound is different too, not as rough as before, but Peter can tell he is aroused and excited.

Wade opens his eyes and, almost without noticing it, Peter is now sitting on his lap, brush fallen on the floor, his hands still intertwined with the strands of blond hair.

“Oh, Peter…” Wade whispers with emotion in his voice, pressing his no-more-chapped lips on the lean neck. “Now you won’t have to touch those ugly scars anymore.”

_But I loved those scars_ Peter screams inside, hiding his face into Wade’s shoulder as the other man starts pulling down the lower half of his costume and Peter’s sweatpants.

They somehow get up and stumble in their bedroom, onto the bed, and Peter has to constantly remind himself that this is Wade, _his_ Wade, and that everything is still the same even if his body changed and became so different.

Peter knows this is stupid, incredibly idiotic, still he can’t avoid tensing again and closing his eyes when Wade puts the first finger inside him.

_‘It’s the same, it’s the same.’_ he thinks repeatedly, but he doesn’t feel familiar calloused digits, the husky voice whispering in his ear sounds so weird, the body above him is devoid of any imperfection, it glistens with sweat, every muscle outlined and visible.

Peter knows those scars were a terrible pain and burden for Wade and he’s extremely happy for him now that he doesn’t suffer anymore. Still part of him cries, because there will be no more sweet rituals: no more soothing cream on ravaged skin, no more kisses on a bald head, no more gentle caresses on swollen bumps.

But, Peter thinks as his boyfriend finally enters him, he can give Wade comfort and solace in a new way now: he can shave him, stroke his hair, tell him he loves him no matter what, scars or not scars. It will be difficult to explain this sudden change to Aunt May, but they will find a valid excuse.

Everything is going to be fine, Peter keeps thinking as Wade thrusts into him whispering sweet things; everything is going to be great and Wade finally won’t be in pain anymore, he won’t be scared anymore.

Then the bad feeling returns in his heart.

“Peter… Peter…” Wade moans pounding into him. “Peter, look at me.”

Peter does and it’s like someone just punched him in the gut, because Wade is so happy, his smile so peaceful and free from any restraints, while Peter can just feel sadness and fear and he can’t even understand _why_.

“I love you.” Wade says with decisiveness, eyes locked with Peter’s, his smile sure and never faltering. Peter thinks of all the times they told each other those words, of how Wade’s expression was always shy and shameful, as if he was asking forgiveness for not being the man Peter deserved.

But now he lets himself go, now that he has hair again, now that his body isn’t devastated by cancer, now that they will be able to walk in the streets without people talking behind their back.

_‘Oh please, God, please, don’t take this away from him.’_ Peter begs in his mind, pulling the other man closer and panting in his ear “I love you too”, hands roaming through his hair.

When they come and Wade lands next to him with a content smile, slightly hairy chest moving up and down, Peter feels the strong urge to cup his cheek, as if to tell him something, an important message Wade doesn’t understand.

“What, Petey?” he pants squeezing the smaller hand. “Did you like it? It’s better without those scars, isn’t it?”

“I… I still have to get used to it.” Peter admits while the painful lump get stuck in his throat again. His voice cracks and Wade worriedly pulls him closer, kissing his lips and cheeks.

“What’s wrong, Peter?” he asks and the young man shakes his head with a small smile, closing his eyes when the soft hair tickles his face.

“It’s a bit weird.” he says trying to change topic, trying to push away the bad sensation growing stronger into him. “I… I guess I’m still shocked.”

“Me too, sweetums.” Wade laughs. “I spent the whole trip back home looking at every reflective surface.”

“Wade!” Peter suddenly exclaims taking his head and looking at him in the eyes. “Wade, you know… you know I love you, right?”

Wade’s face brightens again and he nods, for the first time not looking sad or surprised.

“I know. I love you too.” he laughs, extremely excited instead. “Why do you ask, Petey?”

“And you know I’ll love you no matter what, don’t you? This is important!” Peter pulls him to make their foreheads touch and Wade’s hair looks like a golden cascade. The older man frowns and nods again, visibly confused and as worried as Peter, who sighs and holds him, smelling his scent now so different.

“Petey, I don’t know why you are so worried and nervous, but don’t be scared. It’s still me.” Wade says after a while, pulling away to look at him with an amused smile. “I’m just… beautiful and normal now.”

“You were beautiful before too.” Peter replies softly and Wade lets out a strange laugh, loud but mirthless, that probably means “you are sweet, but I can’t believe that, I’m sorry”.

“Let’s sleep, baby boy.” he says falling on his pillow again, arms still wrapped around Peter. “Now that my healing factor is gone, my body gets tired more easily…” He pouts, looking rather confused and a little disappointed. “Is sex really so exhausting?”

“Sometimes.” Peter smiles weakly, still thinking about the wrongness he can feel in the air, the weird anticipation growing in his body, as if his special senses are warning him about an imminent disaster. It’s different from the usual spider sense, but it carries a similar meaning: “something is going to happen”.

_‘Be strong.’_ Peter thinks as the other man says something about wanting to visit Aunt May to show her his surprise. _‘Be strong for Wade, he needs it. He did this for you too, he needs your strength.’_

Wade falls asleep first and Peter takes his time to observe him under the feeble rays of the sun setting on the horizon. He takes his hand, studying the pale skin, the short hairs, the blue veins.

Then, before finally closing his eyes, he kisses his lips, no more chapped, no more dry, and prays his sense is wrong, that everything is going to be fine and Wade will be at peace.

 

\- - -

 

It’s a loud crash that startles Peter and awakes him from his nervous sleep.

He sits up, looking around to determine the cause of the noise. Then he notices that Wade’s side of the bed is empty and that there are hairs on his pillow and on the floor.

Another crash, coming from the bathroom.

Peter stifles a sob, getting up, putting on his sweatpants and heading slowly and cautiously to the bathroom door.

“Wade…?” he calls softly, voice shaking.

“ _That stupid bastard son of a bitch!_ ”

Peter closes his eyes, trying in vain to calm his breath and pounding heart.

“W-Wade.”

Another crash, followed by a desperate wail.

“Wade!”

“D-Don’t enter! Stay out!”

Peter obeys, resting his back against the door; he hears Wade’s muffled sobs, his muttered curses, something dripping on the floor, then silence.

“Wade.” Peter repeats, almost a whisper. “Wade, I’m here for you.”

More silence and Peter continues, looking down at the golden hairs scattered on the carpet: “Remember what I told you before, Wade. Please, come out, don’t…” he sniffs, controlling his own tears, because he doesn’t want to cry, he can’t cry. “Don’t be scared, I beg you. I’m here for you.”

Minutes passes and finally the door is unlocked and Peter moves to let it open.

Wade stays still on the doorframe, scars already reappearing on his body, hair gone, bloodshot eyes casted down.

“One hour ago.” he says simply and Peter rushes over to him to embrace him, mouth pressed on his marred skin, breathing his coppery scent, letting his hands caress and massage the rough texture, hoping to bring him comfort and relief.

“Peter.” Wade murmurs with a sad smile. “It’s doing the samba.” Peter understands and leads him to their bed, then returns to the bathroom. He ignores the broken mirror, the blood and hairs on the floor, just taking what he needs and immediately returning to Wade.

The scarred man is silently crying and when Peter starts rubbing the cream on his chest, he stammers: “I-I’m sorry, Peter. I… I…” He shakes his head, breath heavy, ragged, too fast. “I just wanted to give you something better, something people couldn’t pity you for and… I didn’t want to see a monster in the mirror anymore.”

“You are not a monster.” Peter replies stopping his rubbing to stroke his cheek. “And I love you no matter what, I already told you that.”

“But _how?_ ” Wade growls looking down at his body. “How can you do that? I’m… I’m disgusting, I’m _wrong_ and…” he gasps when Peter slaps him on the face, albeit with no real strength.

“Never say that.” the younger man hisses, anger and sadness burning in his eyes. “Don’t say that ever again, Wade!”

His face softens and he gently pushes Wade on the bed; once the cream is safe on the nightstand and his sweatpants are gone again, Peter straddles him, his fingertips never leaving the scars and tumors.

“You are not wrong, Wade. You suffered so much and the world tortured you without mercy. But you know what?” Peter bends over him, kissing his mouth, tasting his tongue, biting gently his lips.

“Despite all the pain and torture, you always smile, you always get up ready to face whatever it’s thrown at you. You are not your scars, Wade, you are not the monster the world wants you to see in the mirror.” Peter flips them over and his heart skips a beat when Wade lines their bodies, eyes lost into his. “I’ll love you no matter what, Wade. Scars or not scars, you will always be my knucklehead who get excited at _Golden Girls_ and wears odd socks, the adorable dork who uses girly shampoo and makes me breakfast with his pink apron.”

Wade sobs, scars shifting on his face, and thrusts slowly into Peter, making him moan at the sudden friction.

He speeds up as the young man clings to him and their moans fill the air, together with the creaks of the bed. Wade starts calling his name, over and over again, and Peter never closes his eyes, he stares at the scarred man as he moves in and out of him.

“Wade, look at me.” Peter pants and Wade does, tugging at his erection. “I love you.”

Wade looks panicked for a moment, but then he smiles and nods, responding with that hoarse voice that is music for Peter’s ears: “I love you too.”

Peter gasps when his prostate is finally hit and his moans become high-pitched, his hold on Wade stronger and so does Wade’s, until they both come and fall next to each other, spent and breathless.

“Peter.” Wade calls pulling him to kiss his face. He’s about to cry again. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t have to.” Peter smiles and then: “How is it?”

Wade chuckles, looking at one of his hands: the veins are no longer visible, the hairs disappeared, but for Peter that’s the most beautiful hand in the world and he grasps it, squeezing it gently.

“It’s good.” Wade answers with sincerity returning the grip. “Everything is calm.” His eyes are filled with hope now and he timidly asks:

“No matter what?”

Peter nods, pressing their interlaced hands on his chest.

“No matter what.”


End file.
